


Religious Intervention

by crudescere



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Blasphemy, Church Sex, Don't Like Don't Read, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, M/M, Okay maybe a little plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crudescere/pseuds/crudescere
Summary: Jinyoung and Father Lim in the house of the Lord.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 33
Kudos: 118





	Religious Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> hello, everyone!!!  
> im back and im here to sin again. quite heavily this time lmao
> 
> this fic is nothing but blasphemous filth and if you’re sensitive to religion, Roman Catholicism especially, i suggest you don’t proceed because, well...

  
  


Jinyoung silently congratulated himself for coming just in the nick of time before someone else got the front seat. The lady might have given him a disapproving look but he couldn't care less, not when he defended _his_ seat from a _thief._ Perhaps that was an exaggeration but the aisle seats of the first pair of pews were his. _Both_ left and right, but he preferred the left—it was more directly faced towards the ambo and that allowed him to focus on the sermons better. 

If his parents were asked, they would proudly say that their son was the ultimate devout and faithful. Jinyoung’s Sunday attendance was stellar, not a single absence committed, and even during the week, if time permitted, he did his best to attend workday liturgies as well. He participated in parish-driven charities and took part in church events. And when manpower was scarce, Jinyoung would be trusted to fill in the role of a lector or lay minister. 

Jinyoung appeared to be the prime example of a responsible Catholic man. 

But if he were asked, his reason would probably—most definitely, condemn him to hell. 

And his reason came into view as the consecration bells rang and the choir started singing. 

The man was decked in a deep red chasuble lined with golden embroidery of crosses and fleur-de-lis, burgundy stole draped around a strong neck, and was brimming with confidence, almost arrogant in his strides, that only _he_ could have in a hall full of worshipping patrons. 

As the procession passed him, Jinyoung caught eyes with Father Lim and he felt shivers run down his spine at the clear warning in the priest’s dark and cutting orbs. 

_Someone woke up at the wrong side of bed today_ , he thought. 

Father Lim offered respect when he reached the sanctuary and kissed the altar. 

Jinyoung wished _so_ badly to be the table. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” Father Lim began, his low voice echoing throughout the hall, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”

“And also with you,” the lecturer and the crowd responded. 

The mass started like it did every Sunday and Jinyoung sat prettily in his seat, trying his best to establish eye contact with the priest. He had dressed impeccably, wearing a soft green sweater and khaki pants that hugged him well. His locks were carefully arranged atop his head in equally soft curls, some of them falling over his eyes in the gentlest fashion to frame his face. Jinyoung knew he looked adorable, too innocent even. He appeared to be the good boy people thought he was. But if Father Lim’s clenched jaw were any indication, he was just a boy with a devilish agenda. 

Well, their resident parishioner knew him best after all. 

The priest’s eyes were narrow and sharp, glinting with a sense of strictness that made Jinyoung squirm. And when Father Lim’s calculating gaze caught his again, he did what he did best. Jinyoung stared right back at the man and smirked as he joined the chorus of the crowd, emphasising the parts he thought were appropriate.

“I have _sinned_ through my own fault, in my _thoughts_ and in my words, in what I have _done_ , and in what I have failed to do.” 

And instead of using his fist to gesture the beating of his heart, he used a single index finger and tapped it onto his chest, ever so subtly drawing circles, almost grazing a nipple.

“ _Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa_ ,” he said, not at all disconnecting eye contact. 

He internally cheered and pumped fists into the air when a deep frown found its way in between the priest’s eyebrows. 

The mass droned on until it was time for the homily. Father Lim walked towards the ambo and began reading the gospel. 

Jinyoung, his soul be damned, never really focused on the content of the holy verses. Instead, he basked in Father Lim’s deep voice, nearly a grumble in which the vibrations resonated throughout the huge hall and in his bones. Jinyoung really loved hearing his dearest priest’s sermon—the commanding way Father Lim spoke of God and His ministry; there was this dominating aura that emanated from the priest and Jinyoung basked in all of its glory. 

He smiled to himself. It was oftentimes difficult to identify why he went to church; if it was in worship of _whom_.

Finally, it was time for the receiving of the Eucharist. It was Jinyoung’s favourite part of the liturgy for the sole reason that he could be up close to Father Lim in front of the crowd. 

And he had a plan, he always did. 

Jesus might not approve of it but Jinyoung had long viewed Jesus as a friend; and friends, one can ignore them. Besides, if Jesus really were his friend, he would be a supportive one and nudge Jinyoung closer to the object of his desire. The Lord’s ministry was all about loving one another after all. 

He was the first in line, of course. Father Lim was gorgeous as always, and the way the priest’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed slightly, as if to reprimand Jinyoung from doing _anything_ untoward—well, it sent shivers down Jinyoung’s spine.

Father Lim waited for him to hold out his hands to receive the hostia but Jinyoung only smiled and opened his mouth. 

The priest’s frown deepened and there was this telltale sign of his jaw unhinging, but he continued as if Jinyoung wasn’t about to cause a scene that could have them staked and burned.

“Body of Christ,” Father Lim said.

Jinyoung smiled wider and replied, “Amen.” 

When the sacramental bread touched his lips, an act that never failed to make his knees weak and chest flutter because of being literally fed by Father Lim’s hand, Jinyoung did not let the opportunity pass. 

He stuck his tongue out and brushed the priest’s fingers with it, lips enclosing just a little bit further to feel the digits, teeth nicking just the slightest, _still_ not breaking eye contact. 

He knew his plan worked when Father Lim hissed and the jaw he loved kissing angrily jutted forward. 

Jinyoung winked before walking away and settling back in his seat in the pew. And if he would be proud of one attribute, it would be his never failing ability to scheme and bring everything planned into reality. 

He had always loved the first row of seats because not only did he have a good view of Father Lim during the ceremony, but also because after he had received the hostia, being in the first row meant being diagonal to his priest, who was still handing out the bread to the masses, just a few steps away. 

Which also meant that when he kneels down to offer prayer, Father Lim would have a very clear view of him on his knees. 

He made a big fuss over it, going down on his knees in the most provocative way he can and bringing up his intertwined hands in an obvious facade of praying. Jinyoung kept glancing at the priest from his position, coyly and bashfully. He knew how to play the game, and every time, he came out as the victor. 

When the mass ended and the clergymen had performed the final bow, Jinyoung stayed behind. He knew what was going to happen next; what happened every Sunday. 

He was going to wait for the church grounds to be empty, going in last for the confessional rites. He needed to ask the Lord for forgiveness after all. His thoughts had not been holy, very _very_ far from what was sacred. 

He needed to repent. 

† † †

His penance came in a harsh and angry whisper. “How many times have I told you to cut it out?”

Jinyoung hummed and ran a finger on the thin barrier that separated the sinner and the holy, “This screen, it makes you sexier, Father.”

“Jinyoung,” came the reprimanding voice, “Stop. Just please stop.”

“I don’t think so,” Jinyoung replied, “Isn’t there something very sensual and alluring to the way wine turns to blood and bread turns to flesh? To the way Jesus is _entering_ us?”

“ _Jinyoung_ ,” the priest said exasperatedly, “Proceed to your confession. I don’t have time for this.”

“I jerked to your face thrice this week.”

“Excuse me?” Father Lim exclaimed. “You _what_?”

Jinyoung pouted, “Let’s not pretend that I’m innocent. You know I want you, Father. And yes, I masturbated with your image zoomed in on my phone. But that’s only because I can’t have you personally.”

A beat of silence. 

Jinyoung knew it was only going to be seconds before the priest behind the screen snapped. And if Jinyoung was anything other than cunning, he was a brat. “Come on now, _Jaebeom_. Enough with the holy act. It’s been a week, I need you.”

Jaebeom sucked in an audible breath, “You are unbelievable! We are in the house of the Lord!”

“Didn’t stop you the last time,” he smirked. “Or you want me to beg? Is that it? You’ve always been a kinky fucker.”

“Jinyoung!” Jaebeom warned, “If you don’t stop–”

“Please, I can’t wait any longer,” Jinyoung began unbuttoning his pants which have grown tighter since the moment he stepped into hallowed grounds, “If you want to stay behind the screen then so be it. But I will relieve myself and I will do it here.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Jaebeom cursed. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

Jinyoung hummed and moaned when the cold air hit his erection. 

“You’re leaking?” Jaebeom sounded half amazed and half incredulous. “Already?”

Jinyoung shivered when his hand stroked his cock. It had been hard since the moment Jaebeom stood at the altar. “Can’t help it,” he pouted, “You’re wearing red. You know how much I fucking love it when you wear red.”

The first time it happened, Jinyoung himself felt dirty. He had come back from a month-long vacation in Hongkong, spending his last summer before college with his best friend Jackson, to a newly ordained deacon. 

Jaebeom was not yet a priest then but he had been forbidden all the same. It was _awful_ timing that Jaebeom proclaimed his eternal vow just a week before Jinyoung came back to Seoul. 

Jaebeom had presided beside Father Lee during the first mass Jinyoung attended after returning—and that was when Jinyoung knew he was screwed. 

It was not that Jinyoung did not have shame or any sense of self control. He actually managed to ignore his attraction to the priest-to-be for two solid years. It helped that he had been preoccupied with university, only physically being present in Sunday services but mind elsewhere, mostly in his homework and projects and final exams. 

But one fateful day, he had been so stressed and high strung that just before the mass started, Jinyoung excused himself from his parents and went to the restroom to ease the roiling tension in his gut. He should have been more careful and mindful. No one in the right headspace would masturbate inside a church restroom but he was so far out of his mental faculties that he made a lapse in judgment. 

He liked to think that was what happened anyways—because if not, then he would just appear to be a horny creep with a very specific exhibition kink. 

It must have been divine providence that he forgot to lock the cubicle in haste. He had plunged a hand in his jeans and groaned loudly. It was both a blessing and a curse that Jaebeom happened to push open the stall and enter just as he was stroking his already stiff cock. 

Jinyoung could still remember the scandalised look the deacon had. Well, he understood Jaebeom’s surprise because, after all, it was not everyday that a man was caught jerking off on church grounds. 

Jaebeom had screamed then, _“What are you doing?”_

 _“Jerking off?”_ He remembered replying. And after a few silent seconds, _“I’m not complaining since you’re pretty hot but is a holy man supposed to be watching?”_

_“You’re relieving yourself inside the church!”_

_“Yeah, you wanna help?”_

Jinyoung chuckled at the memory. That was their beginning. Jinyoung had come back to his parents’ side that day and sat contentedly, albeit feeling a tad bit guilty, while eyeing the squirming deacon at the altar.

After that, he kept on coming back during Sundays and claimed the aisle seat of the first pew on the left as his. 

He had witnessed Jaebeom transition from being a deacon to a fully fledged priest. The world would be pretty shocked, Jinyoung reckoned, if they knew that Jaebeom _did_ _help_ him masturbate that fateful day. 

So now as he thumbed at his slit and moaned Jaebeom’s name, Jinyoung couldn’t help but grin evilly when his beloved priest said, “Fuck, Jinyoung. I told you we should stop doing things like this here!”

“ _You're_ not doing anything, though,” beads of sweat started to form at his temples, “ _I’m_ doing all the work here.”

“Brat,” Jaebeom snapped, “Whatever am I going to do with you? You just won’t fucking stop,” the priest violently groaned, however, it was tinged with defeat, “ _Fine._ But this is the last, understood? And quiet down,” he hissed, “You’re so fucking loud, people are going to hear.”

“But Father Lim,” Jinyoung whined, “It’s so hot in here!”

The priest said through gritted teeth, “You’re fucking unbelievable.” 

Jinyoung worked his hand, gripping his cock tighter and flicking his wrist just the right angle to feel more pleasure. “It’s so hot, you know?” He moaned, “I can’t see anything but your silhouette. _Mhm, sexy_.”

“I swear to _God_ , Jinyoung,” Jaebeom sounded pained. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me. Driving me fucking insane. I should punish you.”

“Yes, Father,” Jinyoung picked up the pace, breath getting laborious, “Forgive me for I have sinned, for I am still sinning.”

“You clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” Father Lim pressed, “You want me to spank you like I did last week? Maybe I’ll do it harder this time.”

“Yes,” Jinyoung said breathily, “Yes, Jaebeom.”

“ _Father_ ,” Jaebeom corrected. “Or maybe I won’t let you cum? You seem to like spanking too much. That won’t work.” He sounded breathless too, as if he was the one touching Jinyoung and no screen separated them. “What if I bring you to the edge and then leave you hanging?”

“Oh God, Father, I don’t want that,” Jinyoung used his other hand to massage his balls. 

“I’ll do that then,” Jaebeom sternly said. “I’ll fuck you with my fingers, plunge them deep inside your ass, ruin you from the inside.”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“But I’ll withdraw when you’re at the brink because bad boys don’t get to cum. And you’ve been a bad bad boy, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom clicked tongue in obvious distaste. “Actually, why don’t you stop what you're doing.”

“No!” Jinyoung refused. 

“I said _stop_ , right now,” Jaebeom commanded and Jinyoung, if he knew anything about the priest, was to always obey him when words were delivered as an order.

“ _Jaebeom, why?_ ” he whined frustratingly, with the intensity of a toddler throwing a tantrum. It was all too unfair. He was _so_ near. 

“If you keep your dick in your pants for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll fuck you tonight,” the priest said. 

“But that’s _hours_ still! I need you. I’m so hard, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung whined louder. “I want you _now_.”

“On the altar.”

Jinyoung blanked out. Everything rolled in slow motion then ceased movement completely, including his senses.

 _Yet_ he could hear the smirk in Jaebeom’s voice. And the priest had all the right to be smug. He had been pleading Jaebeom for months to take him right on the altar as there would be nothing else that could top that. It would be the ultimate experience one could have in an affair with a clergyman. _Jesus Christ._

He groaned, “Fuck you, Father.”

Jaebeom chuckled, “I knew you’d see the light.” 

_Evil_ , Jinyoung cursed. The priest was absolutely evil. 

“Now for your penance,” Jaebeom continued as Jinyoung tucked himself back into his pants, blue balled and still rock hard. 

True to his nature, Jinyoung tuned out Jaebeom who went on with the list of prayers he needed to chant for forgiveness. Jinyoung found it amusing that the priest still did his duty amidst the blasphemy they were committing. 

Jinyoung could literally be on his knees for the man and he would still be required to recite the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostles’ Creed after. 

He shook his head at the blatant display of hypocrisy. They were on the same boat, and Jaebeom should beg the Lord for forgiveness as well.

† † †

No one questioned Jinyoung on why he was at the church well after dinner time. His parents had not—probably thought he was doing some volunteer work for the Lord. The few clergymen he met on the way to the liturgy hall had not—probably thought Father Lim was giving him his weekly counselling. 

Well, they were not wrong. Aside from the fact that the counselling session included frantic hands, and him sandwiched between the cool marble of the altar and the blistering heat of Father Lim. 

Jaebeom ravaged Jinyoung’s neck, nipping and biting at the delicate skin. “Missed you.”

Jinyoung threw his head in laughter, the hollow echo bouncing off the closed hall amplified the pleasure of Jaebeom’s hot mouth on him. 

“You sent me away this morning. It’s your fault.”

A loud thump, followed by a painful groan which was a result of Jaebeom’s knee bumping rather forcefully against the table in the act of climbing atop Jinyoung. “Not my fucking fault. You were being careless!”

Jinyoung widened his eyes in that specific way he has practiced, in that way that made him look like an innocent child. “Father Lim! You can’t say bad words! Jesus is listening!”

That earned him a scowl. Jinyoung giggled.

“You’re impossible to deal with, you know that?” Jaebeom shook his head, exasperated and frustrated and _exhausted._

“We can’t keep doing this,” the priest added but his hands snaked in between their pressed bodies, one curling under Jinyoung’s thigh, the other smoothing the exposed skin of Jinyoung’s abdomen.

It sounded fake, so much like the lie it actually was. Jinyoung didn’t believe him for even a millisecond. It wasn’t the first time he had heard Jaebeom say the words anyway; but the effort in which the sentence stumbled out of Jaebeom’s stiff lips—Jinyoung had to give credit to the man for still trying to fool them both. 

It might be difficult for his pet priest, but Jinyoung had long since accepted his rightful place in hell. 

Jinyoung pulled Jaebeom down to him, burrowing his face in the other’s neck and inhaling the scent he had developed a fancy with overtime—cool and woodsy with a hint of sharp incense smoke. 

Jaebeom must have performed a blessing this afternoon. He would confirm his assumption once Jaebeom’s fingers were in his mouth and he tasted bitter ash. Later. 

“Jaebeom, listen to me,” he kissed Jaebeom’s throat, right on the carotid pulse, “Stop lying to me, to yourself. We’re in the Lord’s house after all. Jesus won’t be able to forgive you if you keep piling your sins high.”

Jaebeom let out a harsh groan and tightened the grip he had under Jinyoung’s thigh. Jinyoung could already feel the bruise forming, blood vessels bursting and red blood cells dying, but there was another murder to be committed here. And before Jaebeom could take it back, Jinyoung would push him to dirty his hands in the most irreversible way. 

They were about to desecrate Jaebeom’s foundations, tear the holy walls down and wreck every sacred pillar. Jinyoung will step into Jaebeom’s hallowed core and he will remain there and establish himself as the only man Jaebeom would—should ever worship again. 

Jinyoung was a master at turning his desires into actuality, and this one, this very moment, everything it entailed, beyond the altar fucking fantasy he had—this right here was the last barrier before Jaebeom became fully _his._

Jinyoung would make sure of it: when Jaebeom stands before God’s ministry again, behind this marble table, it would only be Jinyoung filling his head.

Jinyoung as he writhed and arched against the hard surface, cold stone clashing with his, _their,_ feverish skins. Jinyoung as he keened and became putty under Jaebeom’s hands, the same hands that were used to bless.

He licked from under Jaebeom’s jaw to his temple and panted right at the priest’s ear, “You said you’ll fuck me on this altar. Better keep your promise, _Father,_ the Lord is watching.”

“I’m trying to,” Jaebeom hissed and cruelly palmed Jinyoung’s crotch, hard and violent like he was battling a war, “And can you please stop reminding me of the Lord?”

“Why? Scared of eternally damning your soul?” Jinyoung spread his legs wider, pressing back against the palm abusing his cock, rutting against Jaebeom, the friction sending delicious jolts of electricity up his spine. 

“You are insufferable.” Jaebeom closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning away for a bit, placing space between them, enough so that Jinyoung pouted in response.

Jaebeom stared at him straight, locking eyes and willing Jinyoung to be serious. The priest’s mouth was downturned and the scowl was making itself permanent on his handsome face. 

Jaebeom exhaled, deep and full of something akin to regret, and Jinyoung _just_ knew what his next words would be.

Jinyoung had won.

“I’ve already damned myself when I first met you,” Jaebeom shook his head. 

A gentle hand cupped Jinyoung’s face, thumb brushing his cheek ever so softly. And the glint he saw in Jaebeom’s eyes this time—this was what he wanted. _Veneration._

Jinyoung was the saint and Jaebeom would pray to him, worship him, adore him in the highest form.

Jinyoung tilted his head just the slightest bit to the side, eyeing the true to life crucifix looming behind them, and smirked. 

Jesus had nothing on him now.

Then he felt the caress become heavy, thumb digging in his cheek menacingly, forcing him to make eye contact again. 

“Say your prayers now, Jinyoung.”

Alarm bells rang in Jinyoung's head, as shrilly as their altar counterparts, but there wasn't enough time for him to prepare because all of a sudden, Jaebeom tugged him at the hips, dragging him nearer, and started unbuttoning his pants. 

Jinyoung wasn't ready for the force and his head banged on the altarpiece. 

“Jaebeom!”

The priest pulled Jinyoung’s pants and underwear down to his knees then out of the way, letting them fall to the floor, before climbing on him properly. A hand immediately travelled between Jinyoung’s thighs, gripping the hardened cock in a tight fist. 

“Yes, that’s it.” Jaebeom commenced pumping with all the haughtiness of a sinner. “Don’t hold back, the stage is all ours and no audience. Be as loud as you want to be.”

Just then, Jinyoung wasn’t able to hold back a _mewl_ when Jaebeom thumbed his slit. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” he prayed. 

Jaebeom grinned, that stupid, stupid grin that had no place being on a clergyman’s face. It was wicked. It was what Jinyoung imagined Judas looked seconds after receiving thirty silvers. 

“Oh, so now you really pray?” Jaebeom taunted, the same hand abusing Jinyoung’s cock. “I would’ve thrown you on this altar sooner if I had known it’s the only way to make you holy.”

Jinyoung hooked his arms around Jaebeom’s shoulders, drawing the priest down to him. “Kiss me?”

Jaebeom didn’t have to be told twice as he leaned down and devoured Jinyoung’s mouth, swallowing everything from it as if Jinyoung’s lips offered absolution to the sins they were both accummulating.

 _Yes, yes, yes_ , Jinyoung thought. 

Mouth slotted together in frenzy, bodies plastered furiously, where one ended and one began became indecipherable. 

And perhaps this was what religion was all about. 

They said God was the beginning and the end, but so was Jaebeom’s heat on him. It sucked him, mind and body and soul—Jaebeom was taking everything, and Jinyoung was pliant, malleable, all too willing to become an endless void for him. 

He hoped that by being so, he could devour Jaebeom as well, just like how black holes engulf everything from miles away. He would be black, so black and empty that all of Jaebeom’s light would have no other option but to sink into him, so he could be one with Jaebeom right in this very altar. 

Show the heavens that it was possible to find a god amongst the living. 

“ _Jaebeom_ ,” he panted, lips slick with spit and angry red, “ _Please_.”

“Hm?” Jaebeom breathed heavily. He leaned back to look at Jinyoung’s disheveled state, briefly ceasing molesting Jinyoung’s cock to taste the precum smearing his fingers, nodding to the taste. “What is it, my little lamb?”

Jinyoung, even in the position he was in, even as he was as breathless, couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You are so lame.”

“Lame I might be, but I have a feeling you’re about to beg for my _lame_ cock.”

 _That_ earned a groan of exasperation and a glare from Jinyoung. “You are also very annoying.”

Jaebeom chuckled but his eyes darkened to pools resembling the blackness of Christ’s death on Good Friday. 

“Between the two of us, you’re the annoying one. I don’t think you understand your insolence, Jinyoungie.”

“Yeah? Yet here we are committing sacrilege and I see you’re,” he gestured towards the tight tent of Jaebeom’s slacks, “very into it.” Jinyoung made grabby hands, “Come on, Father, punish this insolent child already.”

Jaebeom discarded his pants, stiffly ironed slacks crumpling and joining Jinyoung’s clothes on the polished floor. And for someone in the holy order, it absolutely floored Jinyoung to see that Jaebeom wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“ _Goddammit, Jaebeom!_ ” He exclaimed, blushing furiously, the tips of his ears burned a raging shade of red, “Are you always in commando inside the church?”

“At least I don’t wag my dick around like someone I know,” Jaebeom replied, eyes squinting to catlike slits, daring Jinyoung to deny. “And please don’t use the name of the Lord in vain.”

Jinyoung made a sour face and pulled Jaebeom back down to him once again, a poor attempt to hide that he was _very_ flustered. 

As a braver effort to hide his embarrassment, he took one of the priest’s hands and guided it down to his entrance, urging Jaebeom to _touch._

“Whatever. Let’s just continue with this, please,” Jinyoung said, reaching up to place a kiss on Jaebeom’s cheek.

The priest sighed—and plunged a finger in. No warnings this time. 

Jinyoung gasped at the sudden intrusion and cried out with, “You are such a despicable man, Father Lim!” 

Jaebeom curled his finger and brushed on a familiar spot, earning him another stuttered gasp. “I can be more despicable, if you want.” Jaebeom pushed in another digit, burying fingers knuckle deep. 

“ _A-ah_ ,” Jinyoung cried, _begged_ , salty droplets pooling and growing heavy at the corner of his eyes, “M-more. Please, Jaeb— _more_.”

“You are so greedy,” Jaebeom reprimanded, “Sometimes, you have to be patient and content, Jinyoung.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jinyoung tugged the priest for a deep kiss, so very deep, Jinyoung almost thought he was going to be lost in the other's mouth. “Save your homilies to the faithful.”

Jaebeom, bless him, forewent words and responded to his kiss with the same, if not more, eagerness. 

Soon enough, Jinyoung’s body had warmed the cool marble surface. One particular stroke of Jaebeom’s fingers against his walls had him reaching out for anything to hold, knocking the wooden Bible stand above his head and sending it flying, splintering when it crashed on the floor. 

Jaebeom’s head snapped to the object and he made a deep sound in his throat, like an animal caught in a trap. 

“Oops?” Jinyoung commented, not an ounce of apology in his tone. If anything, Jinyoung felt _proud_. “Guess you’ll just have to claim clumsiness.”

Jaebeom sighed heavily, shaking his head as if Jinyoung drained all of his energy along with his patience. 

Jinyoung watched Jaebeom compose himself, and with a determined look that could rival Peter's devition to Jesus, the priest then threw one of Jinyoung’s legs over his shoulder, almost folding Jinyoung in half and definitely exposing his entrance for all the world to see.

 _Well, not the world, but the Holy Trinity is probably looking_ , the thought flitted through Jinyoung’s mind like a delicate butterfly, _Can’t blame them for it though._

Jaebeom aligned his cock with Jinyoung’s entrance, and Jinyoung wasn’t able to suppress the shudder at the press of penis against the tight ring of muscles of his ass. He braced himself, hands grasping Jaebeom’s shirt-clad biceps, mouth dropping open as Jaebeom pushed into him ever so slowly, so agonizingly.

It felt like an eternity had passed, and along it worlds collapsed into dust particles that obscured time and space, the very fabric of reality, and got rebuilt from the same ashes, forging all versions of Jinyoung across the universe into a receptacle that was solely made for Jaebeom to fill.

It might as well be that Jaebeom was God and Jinyoung was the Holy Grail: the chalice of Jaebeom’s essence. 

The world as Jinyoung knew it kept constructing and deconstructing, and then Jaebeom _was_ filling him to the brim, cock buried to the hilt, hard like steel and thrumming with violent energy, as if it was the aftermath of Lucifer and Michael was sheathing his flaming sword in triumph.

“Move,” he whispered, afraid to break the serene, almost divine, atmosphere that blanketed them. “ _Move_ , Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom rocked into him, and every forward movement, every push, every thrust penetrated Jinyoung and tapped his soul. 

Words spilled from his mouth, incoherent but familiar, a language that travelled past his lips, bypassing his consciousness, much like how one would recite the prayers of the Holy Rosary—ingrained litanies that were automatic but never lacking in sincerity. And just as true, every hit of Jaebeom’s cock assaulting his prostate was a bead that signalled the start of another prayer.

“Touch yourself,” the priest told him and so he did. Jinyoung was ever only this obedient, no comebacks, no snarky remarks, when Jaebeom was pounding into him. 

He held his cock and pumped his fist, up and down in tune with Jaebeom’s in and out. They established a rhythm, so in sync that the angels must have gone still in witness to them merging into such _oneness_ which, for sure, surpassed that of the Holy Trinity itself. 

Jinyoung did feel godlike. A certain thrum of energy in his limbs, repressed power that threatened to consume him from the inside out.

Like he was a bomb in the limbo of conception and at the crux of all that was neither here nor there, and Jaebeom was fire igniting him for the Big Bang.

Jaebeom kept pounding into him, powerful thrusts that punctuated every spell of their ritual— _then_ Jinyoung felt his peripherals sizzling with unbridled energy, buzzing with the promise of a thousand supernovas. 

“ _Jae—_ ,” he gasped, “‘m close.”

Jaebeom groaned above him and fucked him harder, _meaner_. “Give it to me.”

He was getting dizzy, from banging his head on the table or from being at the precipice of letting go, he didn’t know. And he didn’t care. He _can’t_ , not when Jaebeom’s hips started to jerk and Jinyoung knew his priest was close to damning himself as well. 

They would fall from grace together, enter the depths of hell hand in hand. 

Rather, Jaebeom’s hand in his hair and his own around his cock. 

The idea spurred Jinyoung to pump his fist faster, more desperate, more determined, until he was an incoherent moaning mess on the Lord’s table. 

He could feel himself getting higher and higher and higher, touching Heaven’s Gate and glimpsing paradise. 

Jinyoung forced his eyes open, which he didn’t notice closing in the first place, and saw his own version of salvation in Jaebeom’s face. 

His fist stilled, his breath stuttered, and then—he was _falling_. Hard and fast, spiralling into sweet abyss like a comet, illuminating the night sky in self-destructive sparks. 

“ _Jaebeom!_ ” 

Stars burst and died. A new galaxy was born. One that consisted of salty rivers of tears, an atmosphere of sweet skin, and the sticky raindrops of bitter cum.

Jinyoung, at this very moment, felt like a fluttering butterfly. Reborn into this new world where everything was different yet the same. 

A thought crossed his mind: Jesus resurrected after three days. He did in less than one night.

But Jinyoung’s oddly placed soulful musing was short-lived as he was snapped out of his blasphemy by Jaebeom’s still ongoing assault. 

Jinyoung, as sensitive as he was after orgasming, enveloped Jaebeom in a big, soft hug, embracing the priest’s shoulders languidly, limbs hanging off relaxed, all tension fucked out of him. He embraced Jaebeom’s brutality and welcomed all of its destruction. 

Jaebeom groaned loudly, hips jerking violently, and Jinyoung blessedly knew how to handle him in this state. 

He pecked his lover on the lips and whispered, “Come for me, Jaebeom.”

The priest did, hot semen pumping into Jinyoung and filling his insides with the wonders of the universe, and sighed in reverence as he usually did after delivering the gospel of Christ. 

Jinyoung felt victorious, so high up above the clouds, as though he were the mightiest and he was looking down at all of creation. Elation bloomed in his chest and tickled his insides so much so that he wasn’t able to contain the giggle that spilled thorugh his teeth.

“Are you laughing?” Jaebeom's mumble was even more difficult to understand eclipsed with deep, heavy panting breaths. He let his head fall and buried it at the crook of Jinyoung’s neck, slumped loose-limbed and leaden, squashing Jinyoung flat against the altar. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jinyoung giggled once more, “It’s just that when you think about it, this really makes me the Holy Grail, Jaebeommie.”

“What—” Jaebeom attempted to sit up but Jinyoung held him down. “What are you talking about?”

“Your cum is holy, Jaebeom, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

No response but he felt Jaebeom stiffen in his arms, most probably cringing at his words. He wiggled a bit, clenching his ass where Jaebeom was still hilt-deep, “You think we're worthy of miracles and I can continue your bloodline?”

“ _God_ ,” Jaebeom groaned, burying himself deeper in Jinyoung, “You are crazy.”

Jinyoung laughed. He laughed unadulteratedly and so very loud that the walls of the church replied the echoes of his mirth.

Jaebeom moved an arm to put a palm on his face, effectively covering his mouth but doing nothing to prevent Jinyoung’s cackle. 

“Shut up.”

He darted a tongue out to lick Jaebeom’s palm. And like a dance they’ve been performing since the beginning of time, the said palm moved downwards, cupping his chin, and allowing the index and middle fingers to rest comfortably on Jinyoung’s swollen lips.

Jinyoung remembered something important. He opened his mouth to engulf Jaebeom’s fingers, which resulted in another buck of the priest’s hips. And he was correct—Jaebeom’s fingers tasted the usual saltiness but there was a strong hint of bitter ash from burnt palm branches.

“Gross,” the priest mumbled against his neck. 

“I just know you want me pregnant, Jaebeom.” Tears at the corners of his eyes again, from too much giddiness this time, “We’d both be saints for it. It’s the most impossible of the impossibles! They'd have no choice but to canonize us.”

“Go to hell.”

Jinyoung was content, happy and sated and he wished for nothing more. He tightened his hold on his priest, almost a chokehold, and tilted his head to rest on Jaebeom’s. 

“Already there with you.”

† † †

“ _..._ Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my Body, which will be given up for you _._ ”

Sacramental bells rang, and Jinyoung smirked and stuck his tongue out, licking his lips sensually upon the priest’s words, eyes not breaking contact with the holy man behind the massive altar.

Jaebeom didn’t pay him any mind, dogged focus solely on the Holy Eucharist. 

“In a similar way, when supper was ended, he took this precious chalice in his holy and venerable hands, and once more giving you thanks, he said the blessing and gave the chalice to his disciples, saying…”

Jinyoung admired his lover for his seriousness. It turned Jinyoung on to no end that Jaebeom kept being professional and was seemingly immune to his teasing. The hardness in his pants can’t be denied and it took _his_ own willpower not to plunge a hand down his crotch in the middle of the ceremony. 

“Take this, all of you, and drink from it, for this is the chalice of my Blood—”

Jinyoung beamed. 

“—the Blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of...”

Jinyoung placed a hand on his stomach and made rubbing motions akin to a mother pregnant yet again and on her way to birthing another child. 

And bingo! He was instantly rewarded with Jaebeom’s eyes going round and wide, so uncharacteristic to his face, and for the first time, Jaebeom stuttered in pure shock, _disgust_ , while presiding over a mass. 

“ _S-sins_.” The priest glared. “Do this in memory of me.”

Jinyoung wondered if the rest of the parishioners caught on Jaebeom’s falter, but witnesses or no, he felt very accomplished.

He raised his head towards the chalice as the sacramental bells continued ringing, and bowed along as Jaebeom knelt in respect. 

When the priest resurfaced from behind the altar and their eyes met again, Jinyoung winked. The flutters in his chest turning to whirlwind and literally making him gasp at the scowl Jaebeom wore in response. 

He couldn’t wait to queue, stand in front of Jaebeom, and receive the Holy Bread. Indeed, his favorite part of every mass. 

That and the confessional rites that would happen later. He _just_ couldn’t wait to be alone with Jaebeom again…

...and confess his sins as he committed them over and over and over with Jaebeom once more.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> so that was it!! 
> 
> i got the actual mass script from my local parish (im really damning myself huh) and the idea that wine can turn into blood and bread turns to flesh is from *drumrolls* Michael Fassbender lmao i saw an interview of him some years ago where he said this and i was automatically like, "yes, yes, my dear father, you are correct. it _is_ sexy." so yeah, that bit is from him and im saying this as a disclaimer. don't wanna be sued for plagiarism, you know?
> 
> n e ways! thank you for reading!!!  
> i hope you liked it!!! it took some time but i can finally wash my hands of this piece.  
> comment your thoughts below. I would love to hear from you :))


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